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Thus, I find it by Experiment, Scolding moves you less than Merriment. :: I may storm and rage in vain, It but stupifies your Brain : But with Raillery to nettle, Sets your Thoughts upon their Mettle ; Gives Imagination Scope, Never lets your Mind elope; Drives out Brangling and Contention, Brings in Reason and Invention ; For your Sake as well as mine, I the lofty Style decline.

I, who love to have a Fling
Both at S-n-te-House and
That they might some better way tread,
To avoid the publick Hatred;
Thought no Method more commodious,
Than to shew their Vices odious,
Which I chose to make appear,
Not by Anger, but a Sneer :
As my Method of reforming,
Is by laughing, not by storming,
(For my Friends have always thought
Tenderness my greatest Fault)
Would you have me change my Style
On your Faults no longer smile ;

But,

But, to patch up all your Quarrels,
Quote you Texts from Plutarch's Morals;
Or, from Solomon produce
Maxims teaching Wisdom's Use ?

If I treat you like a Cond H-d,
You have cheap enough compounded ;
Can you put in higher Claims,
Than the Owners of St. Yes?
You are not so great a Grievance,
As the Hirelings of St. St-ns.
You are of a lower Class
Than my Friend Sir Robert Brass.
None of these have Mercy found,
I have laugh’d, and lash'd them round.

Have you seen a Rocket fly?
You could swear it pierc'd the Sky :
It but reach'd the middle Air,
Bursting into Pieces there;
Thousand Sparkles falling down,
Light on many a Coxcomb's Crown ;
See, what Mirth the Sport creates,
Singes Hair, but breaks no Pates.
Thus, should I attempt to climb,
Treat you in a Style sublime,
Such a Rocket is my Muse,
Should I lofty Numbers chuse, .

E'er

E'er I reach'd Parnassus' Top,
I should burst, and bursting drop.
All my Fire would fall in Scraps,
Give your Head some gentle Raps,
Only make it smart a while;
Then, could I forbear to smile,
When I found the tingling Pain,
Ent’ring warm your frigid Brain :
Make you able upon Sight
To decide of Wrong and Right;
Talk with Sense whate'er you please on;
Learn to relish Truth and Reason.

Thus we both should gain our Prize : I to laugh, and you grow wise.

A LOVE POEM, from a PHYSICIAN to.

his MISTRESS.

Written at London in the Year 1728.

D Y Poets we are well assur'd

D That Love, alas ! can ne'er be cur'd;
A complicated Heap of Ills,
Despising Boluses and Pills.
Ah! Chloe, this I find is true,
Since first I gave my Heart to you.
Vol. VIII.

R !

Now,

Now, by your Cruelty hard-bound
I strain my Guts, my Colon wound:
Now, Jealousy my grumbling Tripes
Affaults, with grating, grinding Gripes:
When Pity in those Eyes I view,
My Bowels wambling make me fpew.
When I an am'rous Kiss design'd,
I belch'd a Hurricane of Wind.
Once, you a gentle Sigh let fall,
Remember how I suck'd it all ; .
What Cholic Pangs from thence I felt, ..
Had you but known, your Heart would melt,
Like ruffling Winds in Caverns pent,
'Till Nature pointed out a Vent.
How have you torn my Heart to Pieces,
With Maggots, Humours, and Caprices!
By which I got the Hemorrhoids,
And loathsome Worms my Anus voids.
Whene'er I hear a Rival nam’d,
I feel my Body all inflam'd;
Which breaking out in Boyls and Blanes,
With yellow Filth my Linen stains ;
Or, parch’d with unextinguish'd Thirst,
Small Beer I guzzle ’till I burst ;
And then I drag a bloated Corpus
Swell’d with a Dropsy, like a Porpus ;
When if I cannot purge or stale,
I must be tapp'd to fill a Pail.

On

On a PRINTER's being sent to New

GATE, by the
DETTER we all were in our Graves

D Than live in Slavery to Slaves ;
Worse than the Anarchy at Sea,
Where Fishes on each other prey;
Where ev'ry Trout can make as high Rants
O'er his Inferiors as our Tyrants ;
And swagger while the Coast is clear;
But should a lordly Pike appear,
Away you see the Varlet scud,
Or hide his coward Snout in Mud.
Thus, if a Gudgeon meet a Roach
He dare not venture to approach ;
Yet still hath Impudence to rise,
And, like Domitian, leap at Flies,

Upon stealing a Crown when the DEAN was

alleep, by Dr. SHERIDAN.
EAR Dean, fince you in sleepy wise
Have op'd your Mouth, and clos’d your

Eyes, .
Ghost-like I glide along your Floor,
And softly shut the Parlour Door ;
. R 2

For

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